


taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind.

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: Atheism, Atheist Character, F/F, Family Fluff, Female Friendship, Feminist Themes, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Male-Female Friendship, Movie Premiere, REQUEST!!, Recovery, Romantic Fluff, Same-Sex Marriage, Vampires, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; The Greatest Showman Medley by Anthem Lights.~~~~~“If Macarena Achaga can find a dialect coach to get Anastasia’s accent down and learn to speak some Russian and Kazakh without an accent, I’m damn sure Zendaya won’t do you dirty,” Lily chuckled. “She’s a queen — and I promise I won’t let them make you act straight. I think I did a good job at making sure everyone knew we’re a raging bunch of homosexuals. I literally added so many straight jokes the studio got mad at me and I had to have Anastasia fuck with people’s minds to get them to allow it.”“You did what?,” Kamilah half laughed, half sighed.Anastasia shrugged. “We’re gay and we did crime. Stab us.”“Damn fucking right we did,” Lily snorted. “We did it for the gays. Y’all are welcome, by the way. It’s about damn time we had a whole ass movie where it’s just a bunch of chaotic gays who are drunk and just fucking winging everything and making bad straight jokes as a coping mechanism like 93% of the time.”“Yes,” Serafine nodded. “It certainly is. I appreciated the one where Jax called a traffic jam on Fifth Avenue a straight pride parade.”
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 41





	taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: could you possibly write a one shot where it’s Lily’s movie premiere (bloodbound) and obviously Adrian, kamilah, mc and serafine are there... and the movie premiere is where Adrian discovered that kamilah x mc had sex in his cabin😂 he’s reaction would probably be hilarious

Out of all the things that Kamilah had expected to happen in her life, seeing herself become a film character was right up there with finding her great love and settling down into married life on the list of things she absolutely had not prepared herself for. Yet there she was, at The Cannes Film Festival, having just sat through the first two hour installation of Lily’s epic trilogy of movies about Anastasia titled ‘Bloodbound’. 

It went without saying that she was proud that her protégé had made something of herself and was no longer considering the ridiculous notion of starting her own vampire porn company to make ends meet. Yes, she had indeed actually had the misfortune of spending one too many nights telling Lily Spencer that she was not going to become a vampire pimp and wander the streets of Manhattan wearing elaborate furs with immortal porn stars on her arms. 

However, living through the actual events that had just transpired on the big screen once had been a rather exhausting affair... and somehow seeing them all re-enacted by mortal actors to the accompaniment of an epic orchestral soundtrack was... bizarre. 

Very bizarre, indeed.

Being taken back to how things once were made her realise how much things had changed in only a few short years. Going back to a time when things were so different was... jarring. She didn’t even recognise herself as the same woman she’d been then. Now she had turned the ruins of her broken life into a palace. She couldn't go back to how she’d been before — and wouldn't even if she could. She was so close to the love of her life now that it was as if Anastasia held her in her palm like a glowing ember — and gave thanks for the pain that getting to this point had caused even as she inhaled the smoke from her burning flesh.

“Nadine Nassib Njeim and Macarena Achaga better get Oscars for playing us,” Anastasia whispered to her as they made their way through the crowds gathered at the after party. All eyes were on them. It was something Kamilah was used to when she was Anastasia’s arm candy, for when her wife entered a room, all eyes turned to her. She blazed like a torch, lighting the darkest corners, brightening even those who thought they were already well lit. She brought joy and mirth and left behind a glow that gave hope to those she had left.

“They were spot on,” she agreed.

“That was a Carol level performance that Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara would be proud of.” Anastasia laughed. “We’re gay icons now, I hope you know. I’m not even joking, the internet lesbians are going to have a mental breakdown when they see this.”

“Adrian didn’t know we had sex in his cabin until just now,” she snorted, glancing at a bewildered looking Adrian as he enjoyed a drink with his mortal counterpart; Daniel Sharman. “If you recall, he drank himself into a coma that night and passed out long before I ordered you to slowly strip for me.”

Anastasia giggled. “I was mortal so I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t hear his breathing or heart rate from where we were.”

“I— oh, indeed, you were,” she chuckled. “Forgive me, my love. It just seems odd to consider the notion that you were ever anything other than you are now. You’ve always been forged of steel as far as I’m concerned.”

She playfully nudged her arm and they both started laughing at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. They’d just watched mortals pretending to be them fucking on the big screen in a room full of strangers to the backing of an orchestral version of Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years. It was a very well acted and tastefully choreographed scene, different enough from the actual events of that evening so that their memories could remain something sacred but similar enough that it was recognisable and made it perfectly clear that on that evening they had lost all concept of time. That they had lost their place and surroundings. That they couldn’t remember who they were — who they had been or who they wanted to be. That they had practically lost their minds in the intensity of it.

Kamilah’s favourite part, however, had been when it showed the moment Anastasia had proposed using herself as a pawn to save Adrian’s life... foolish, selfless girl that she was. For cinematic purposes there had been an added moment that hadn’t actually occurred that took place between their characters, when Kamilah — or Nadine — had voiced her fears at the mere thought of her being unprotected and had outlined her self loathing in a far more direct way than she had in real life. The scene had been accompanied by an instrumental version of Billie Eilish’s Lovely, which had only made it more potent. 

She’d pulled Anastasia’s character aside and said, ‘This is who I am. Naked, with blade and blood. I am vengeance. I am hate. I am sin personified. Never mistake me for the hero of this tale, for I am not and shall never be. I am the villain.’ 

‘Why do you hate yourself so much?,’ Anastasia’s character had then asked.

Hers had laughed harshly at the question. ‘You ask me that?,’ she had said. ‘You know what I am, Anastasia. You know that I have nothing of any goodness or worth to offer you. And you don't even know the worst about me.’

‘I think I know the best about you, though,’ Anastasia had said, staring into her eyes. Eyes that were dark, dangerous, but not at all cold as they regarded her. Kamilah had burned with an internal inferno the mortal had wanted to touch. And she’d been aware she was staring into the gaze of a tiger, but hadn’t shied away. ‘You have a strong sense of decency and honour. Otherwise you would not be protecting me more than I am protecting myself.’

‘You are different.’ Her character had whispered as she lifted a hand to delicately trace her jawline. Anastasia had closed her eyes, feeling her fingers tremble against her skin and work through her hair. ‘I lost whatever heart I once had long ago but for whatever reason,’ she had continued softly, ‘when you are with me, everything is different.’

‘Because when I’m with you, you’re not running from happiness.’

Her character had simply nodded, and despite the fact the scene was fictional Kamilah had actually felt the queer sensation in her chest that was all too familiar, that mix of pleasure and pain, never one without the other.

At the time when this conversation was supposed to have occurred she could have done without those feelings. She would have happily gone her entire life never experiencing the pangs of longing and the futility of regret. Anastasia had made her human — or as human as she was capable of being — for the first time in more than two thousand years. And at that time, being human was possibly her least favorite aspect of life.

‘You seem so lonely, Kamilah,’ Anastasia’s character had then whispered after a long moment. She had looked at her in a way that made it clear she wanted to put her arms around her, but even in the movie she had an ancient darkness that had seemed to stand beside her like an acquaintance that would not go away. 

‘I am not sure what loneliness is,’ she had confessed. ‘If it is not literally being solitary, is it the fear of solitude, of being alone with oneself? I feel no such fear. I like being alone.’

‘What do you fear then?,’ The Bloodkeeper had asked her.

She glanced briefly at her and smiled, a fragile expression that spoke for itself even before her character had found the words. And when she spoke, her voice had been just as fragile, ‘Never finding myself again.’

Anastasia’s character had then drawn her into the single most dramatic kiss she’d ever seen portrayed in a film and she had then taken the mortal into her arms and held her very close to her.

The two actresses playing them really had done a good job. Nadine’s performance had shown with subtlety how Kamilah had been tired of waiting for herself to acknowledge who she was. How she had been tired of donning a false mask of numbness when she was so much more — was capable of feeling so much more — beneath, but had been too cowardly to cast it aside. No one had ever noticed her mask. No one but Anastasia. The movie had captured perfectly how Anastasia had decided that if Kamilah couldn’t or wouldn’t make the first move, then damn it, she — and all her twenty-two year old mortal sensibilities — would be the one to do it.

Somewhere, at some indefinable point in real life that had been captured perfectly in the film, Kamilah had crossed a bridge and the bridge had crumbled behind her. There had been no going back. She had begun to care for Anastasia more than anything else in life. More than her friends. More than her honour. More than the laws of the vampire community that she had enforced for centuries.

More than her freedom, should it have ever come to that.

Bringing her joy had been worth more than any amount of money. She knew — without doubt, without fear — that she would kill for her. For the girl she’d once said she didn’t care whether she got mauled or not. Who’d once being an irritatingly beautiful mewling mortal to her and nothing more.

That she would die for her.

It was almost a relief, this realisation, and the movie had captured it in a wordless moment when it had shown her holding Anastasia as she slept in the afterglow of the first night they’d spent together. It was exactly as it had been in real life, when even though the room had been unlit apart from the fire, she could make out her slight form beneath the blankets. The sight of her had somehow calmed her aching soul. She lay in her arms and no matter what bargain Kamilah had tried to make with herself, at that point she had already known the truth. 

She had no plans to let her go — ever.

She might have fought intellectually against it, using all those well-worn arguments: she was much too old, Anastasia was much too young, they were too far apart in experience, but it simply hadn’t mattered. Her ancient heart had performed a coup d'état over her mind and there was nothing more to be done about it.

She had fallen in love with the-then Anastasia Swann, now and forevermore.

She’d even been able to appreciate how Kento Yamazaki had brought Jax back to life in front of them. His performance had been so jarring that poor Anastasia had started dabbing at her eyes when her character had first realised she was being spied on and then she had begun silently sobbing as soon as he rescued her from The Baron’s dungeons. She missed him so much that Kamilah knew she would trade her life for his without a second thought if someone had to offer her the chance. She missed him so much that she’d lost count of how many nights she’d spent holding her as she cried herself to sleep, the guilt that wasn’t hers to bear and his memories that were permanently carved into her mind as surely as her own eating her alive in ways that nobody could begin to comprehend.

But even Anastasia had found joy in watching Nadine and Letitia Wright reenacting the earliest days of Lily’s life as a vampire. There were so many golden moments when Kamilah had come close to stabbing her in the eyes when she’d been lumped with the unfortunate task of training her. Like the time she’d asked to roll play Star Wars when she was teaching her to handle a weapon or had insisted the song Kung Fu Fighting or any from the Rocky Balboa soundtrack be played on repeat whenever she set foot in the dojo. There had even been a reenactment of the night Kamilah had tasted her first and last Flamin’ Hot Cheeto... that she still stubbornly pronounced with a g.

They’d even seen a few historically accurate interpretations of Anastasia’s visions of their pasts enacted as part of the film. There was one of her murder and Turning where Nadine had been accompanied by an actor named Cody Fern, whose portrayal of Gaius had been so accurate and down right demonic at times that she’d had to hide her face in her wife’s shoulder and consciously focus on her breathing for the duration of his scenes. If it hadn’t been for Anastasia being there to hold her and whisper words of comfort she would’ve had to leave the theatre whenever he’d appeared on the screen. Strange how monsters could reach from beyond the grave, as potent in death as they were in life.

There’d even been a vision of Adrian’s Turning not long after his wife — who had been played by Phillipa Soo in a flashback — and young son had been killed that had been just as difficult to watch. Daniel Sharman had studied his mannerisms so intricately that he’d transformed into a very believable Adrian... and it wasn’t easy to see her brother suffering that sort of pain. It wasn’t easy at all.

Though it hadn’t been the intention of the scenes, after every Bloodkeeper vision that had been portrayed Kamilah couldn’t help but worry for her wife’s wellbeing. Every vampire who had ever walked the Earth had bore witness to a never ending stream of traumatic events and Anastasia bore each and every one of their memories. The visions assaulted her mind in the same unambiguous clarity as the gory scenes portrayed in Lily’s movie... and she could not just up and leave the theatre if it became too much for her to bear. For her, there was no escape from this. Ever.

“I’m thinking Harry Styles for Vlad Tepes in Bloodbound Two,” Lily beamed as they approached. “Or Ezra Miller.”

“What about me?,” Serafine pouted. She was rather put out that Lily hadn’t taken extreme creative liberties and just added her into the story before she had officially met Anastasia in Paris. She’d have been quite happy to be the star of the film.

“Girl, Zendaya’s people have been hitting me up daily for months,” Lily practically squealed. “Zendaya wants to be you in BB2 and BB3. ZENDAYA.”

Serafine seemed to like that answer and dramatically flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well... I would certainly not be opposed to that, so long as she does not murder the French accent or act too straight.”

“If Macarena Achaga can find a dialect coach to get Anastasia’s accent down and learn to speak some Russian and Kazakh without an accent, I’m damn sure Zendaya won’t do you dirty,” Lily chuckled. “She’s a queen — and I promise I won’t let them make you act straight. I think I did a good job at making sure everyone knew we’re a raging bunch of homosexuals. I literally added so many straight jokes the studio got mad at me and I had to have Anastasia fuck with people’s minds to get them to allow it.”

“You did what?,” Kamilah half laughed, half sighed.

Anastasia shrugged. “We’re gay and we did crime. Stab us.”

“Damn fucking right we did,” Lily snorted. “We did it for the gays. Y’all are welcome, by the way. It’s about damn time we had a whole ass movie where it’s just a bunch of chaotic gays who are drunk and just fucking winging everything and making bad straight jokes as a coping mechanism like 93% of the time.”

“Yes,” Serafine nodded. “It certainly is. I appreciated the one where Jax called a traffic jam on Fifth Avenue a straight pride parade.”

“So... you two didn’t actually have sex in my cabin, right?,” Adrian said as he approached the group. He glared at her and she smirked right back at him, far too proud of herself to act nonchalant about the whole thing. “Tell me you didn’t actually have sex for the first time in my cabin whilst I was asleep behind a very thin wooden door and at any moment could’ve walked out of my room and been greeted with a sight that would scar me for the rest of my life—“

“Oh, relax. You are almost three hundred years old and have taken several lovers over the years, yet you act like a Puritan. Must you be so prudish?,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I had her gagged, handcuffed, Collared and on the end of a leash at my beck and call at that point. We had sex, that’s it.”

Adrian’s jaw dropped and he made an odd choking sound. “No, you didn’t just have sex. You ordered your own strip tease in the middle of my living room—“

“And it was a very enjoyable experience for both of us,” Anastasia interjected, in a quiet, giggly voice that sent veritable chills down Kamilah’s spine.

“Indeed,” Kamilah sighed happily, her entire body tingling with warmth at the memory of how Anastasia’s body looked in the orange glow of the fireplace that night. It was one of the best memories she had, a moment that she had held so dear to her heart since it had been her present. “Fairly vanilla by our standards now... but very enjoyable nonetheless.”

“How much trouble would I be in if I went off the rails and showed the fifty shades people how all that kinky shit is really done in the next two movies?,” Lily quipped. “Like, I’m talking Tumblr fanfic levels of kinky shit. I’m seeing a scene titled Kamilah’s Dungeon. Red filtered lighting. Sexy ass music. Lingerie. Leather. Chains. Whips. Knives. Candles. Biting. The whole nine yards.”

“Go for it,” Anastasia shrugged. “I’m a brat, though. So you better not make me into some simp who just does whatever her domme asks of her.”

“You behaving yourself?” Kamilah huffed, her voice husky and low with desire as she caressed her cheek. “What a travesty that would be.”

“You could film it at Adrian’s cabin,” Serafine suggested. “You know, for continuity’s sake.”

Everyone snorted and Adrian threw his hands up in a fit of exasperation, glaring at her again. “I will have to have an exorcism performed on that house now. Your version of vanilla and everyone else’s version of vanilla do not match up. You literally had kinky sex beneath the portrait of the Virgin Mary hung above the fireplace—“

“It’s fitting,” Lily laughed.

“How is it fitting?,” Adrian practically shrieked. “She’s the Virgin Mary!”

“Let’s be real and think logically for a minute here, sis was a hoe,” Lily deadpanned. 

“Excuse me?,” Adrian spluttered.

“A hoe,” Lily said slowly, but very loudly. Everyone but Adrian snorted in amusement at her frankness and she continued, “I’m of the opinion that the whole religion of christianity came about because this chick Mary fucked my boy Joseph’s brother or some shit but didn’t wanna own up to being horny as fuck because homeboy couldn’t figure out what her clit was for and then concocted this elaborate story that spiralled into a whole ass religion after she found someone who could satisfy her. I mean, talk about goals... lying so hard you accidentally create a whole religion because you were horny.” She took a sip of the fruity cocktail in her hand. “And yes, my grandma and her friends did whoop my ass for suggesting this conspiracy theory at church when I was fourteen. I’m not even kidding, I was chased down the block by like twelve angry old ladies, five of them had zimmer frames, one was in a wheelchair, fucking Shirley was on an electric scooter that I’m pretty sure she stole from Walmart and was driving drunk, and this one musty ass white woman with a bad perm named Edith had neon pink walking sticks that matched her orthopaedic sandals— I had to yeet myself over a chain link fence to escape them.”

“What the fuck?,” Anastasia laughed hysterically. “And I thought my teenage years were eventful.” 

“Shit was traumatic as fuck. I think this is why I’m so fucked up,” Lily mused. “But it’s not all bad, I was banned from going to church and got to stay home raging to One Direction tunes and play Call Of Duty whilst high on Monster Energy every Sunday after that.”

At that Adrian grabbed Serafine’s martini and drained it in one gulp. “I— I’m going to need to be much more intoxicated than I am now if I am to debate this with you. Excuse me.”

Lily snorted and crossed herself dramatically. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

“I think we broke him, ladies,” Anastasia laughed as he walked away.

“Men,” Kamilah scoffed. “They’re so sensitive.”

“And to think they ever thought us the weaker sex,” Serafine smirked.

“Fuck the patriarchy,” Lily nodded.

They all shared a laugh and Serafine turned to her and asked, “So the burning question is, did you really invite Anastasia to your office to eat her out for hours after all was said and done or was that scene purely fan service?”

Kamilah simply smirked and glanced at her wife, who was blushing so furiously that she had to hide her face in Lily’s shoulder. “You know the type of woman I am, Serafine. What do you think?”

Serafine snorted and patted Anastasia on the back. “You’re a lucky woman.”

Anastasia huffed, her beautiful eyes widening and then narrowing as she started to laugh. “You have no idea.”

Kamilah drew her wife into her arms and gave her a long kiss. Watching Lily’s movie had left her craving physical affection for some reason. She always tried not to think about the fact she had been a very unhappy person for a very, very long time that accumulated to many lifetimes but in a strange way, that very fact was now encouraging to her, for before all this happened she had dedicated her life to achieving perfection. She had wanted to be the perfect vampire above all else. Happiness had meant nothing to her because she had never really known it. Nor did love mean anything because the Stockholm Syndrome she’d developed had warped her perception of it. They had frightened her, for they suggested chaos and the impossibility of achieving perfection. Now that she knew she had been desperately unhappy, she understood that she could be happy too and that she could love and be loved, and that unless she chose to allow these things to happen to her and believed that she deserved them, she would be only half alive.

“You good?,” Anastasia asked her quietly.

She nodded. “Just thinking about how things have changed.”

Anastasia nodded. She knew, perhaps more than anyone, how it felt to feel haunted by the past, that in life there were such things as ghosts. People everywhere had always known that on some level and believed in them every bit as much as the great author Homer once did. Only now, people called them by different names. Memory. The unconscious.

“Is this how you feel after your visions?,” she asked. “I— I don’t even know how to put it into words...”

“What a person sees and what actually exists in the world is often contradictory,” Anastasia explained. “The human eye is not capable of true sight — regardless of whether it’s mortal or vampire — it’s constrained by its own humanness, clouded by regrets, and opinions, and faith, and fear. What I see and what I think you might be feeling after having that little window into the past, is witnessing something in the real world that was truly unknowable in real time. It is the eye of the camera — or visions in my case — that captures the world as it truly is.”

She laughed weakly and nodded. “Its emotionally exhausting. How do you bear it?”

“I don’t have any other choice,” Anastasia said simply. “But I try to remind myself that by overthinking the things I see, the observations I can make, I am only wasting time by suffering twice.” She gave her hand a tight squeeze. “You know I can’t always not let it affect my mood, though. I try not to but it— it’s a weird thing to have the past brought up like that. I mention this only to show how many things the mind cannot will itself to do, even if it wants to.”

Anastasia drew her into another kiss. As her wife, whenever Kamilah felt off or afraid or unhappy at all, it was to her she wanted to go. Her arms were there for her, and her strength too. And she knew she would never be a burden to her, even at times like this when she could quite understand the intricacies of her emotions and only knew that they were as uncomfortable as they were pleasant. She supposed that was what separated a good movie from a mediocre one, though, leaving its audience feeling this off kilter afterwards.

This was madness; this was delirium.

She was aware, suddenly, of the chill condensing clammily on her skin, the smell of damp cobblestones, of the very air flowing in and out of her lungs. It must’ve rained as the film was playing. But most of all she was aware of the woman, this woman, her woman, standing so proudly in her arms, looking at her, only her.

Kamilah drew her close enough that no space at all existed between them and knew with every fiber of her being that she held life itself within her embrace.

“I may need to indulge in a bottle or two of wine to process everything,” she confessed. “I wasn’t expecting to react so intensely to watching my own murder — I don’t think I’ll be able to watch yours at the end of the next movie. Watching you die once was more than enough... and in my nightmares it’s your death that haunts me more than my own.”

“Get as drunk as you want, babe,” Anastasia whispered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll look out for you.”

She kissed her cheek. “I know you will.”

“I’d love to know Drunk Kamilah’s thoughts on the love scenes.”

At that she snorted. “Drunk Kamilah is always horny and will probably ask you to reenact them if she makes an appearance tonight.”

“Sober Kamilah is always horny.”

“That’s entirely your doing.” She gave her ass a playful spank. “You can’t look like that and go to the lengths to rile me up that you do and expect me not to devour you at every available opportunity.” She bent to lay her mouth on hers, thrusting her tongue lazily past her lips until she sucked on the thick length. “Are they any different?,” she whispered against her mouth, “my kisses? Do they change depending on whether I’m drunk or sober?” 

Anastasia cracked her eyelids to look at her and murmur into the humid heat between them, “I can’t tell. Perhaps you should demonstrate again.” 

Kamilah licked at the corner of her mouth. “A scientific study, you mean?” Her mouth trailed up her cheek, soft as a moth. 

“Quite,” she breathed. 

“As you wish.” She nipped at her bottom lip. “I— Lily, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

They turned to look at Lily at the sound of slurping. The imbecile was watching them with wide eyes and a twirly straw sticking out of her mouth. With one hand she was typing their every word furiously into the notes section of her iPhone, and an icy blue cocktail was held in the other. “Research. Carry on. I’m not here.”

Kamilah heaved sigh and rested her head on her wife’s shoulder. She couldn’t very well whip out her blades without causing a scene, but she dearly wanted to. “I don’t care if it’s her party. I am exactly three seconds away from stabbing this raging pervert in the eyes.”

“Three seconds away from stabbing this raging pervert in the eyes,” Lily repeated around the twirly straw in her mouth as her thumb glided across her iPhone screen. “This shit is gold.”

“You know us well enough that you don’t have to study us to make your movies realistic— I’m already beginning to wish you started that porn company,” she deadpanned. 

“Imma be around forever,” Lily winked. “I got time.”

Anastasia’s gaze found hers and they both started laughing. Love, passion, lust, and surging hunger swirled in her stormy blue eyes. Emotions so stark, so strong, she didn't understand how she kept them under control. She looked as if he were about to drag her off, ravish her, and conquer the world itself at the same time.

“To hell with propriety,” Kamilah smirked as she unceremoniously scooped her wife into her arms and started off towards the exit. “We’re going back to our suite where I may devour you without it becoming a spectacle.”

“I expect to be — how did you put it earlier? — gagged, handcuffed, Collared and on the end of a leash at your beck and call,” Anastasia teased.

“Oh, darling, you will be.”

~ fin.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/c/EpicOrchestra <\- Link to the channel that makes the orchestral mixes I imagine make up Lily’s movie soundtrack ✌🏻😂 (The version of Lovely I mentioned is by Brian Catuccio & is available on Spotify)


End file.
